


Festivities

by avintagekiss24



Series: Happy Steve Bingo 2018 [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Autumn, Christmas, Christmas Music, Dancing, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Halloween, Kissing, Marriage, Music, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 11:54:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16367318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avintagekiss24/pseuds/avintagekiss24
Summary: While you're getting ready for Halloween, Steve gets ready for Christmas.





	Festivities

**Author's Note:**

> Another fill for my Happy Steve Bingo card 2018 - "It's too early for Christmas carols!"

You love the fall. The first day of September is a holiday for you. You break out your cozy sweaters, you drink nothing but pumpkin spice lattes, and you pull out the Halloween decor. Your nails are painted black, your favorite tea is brewing on the stove, and your one eyed black cat Sam paws at the plastic bats hanging from the corner of your kitchen counter. You remove the baked chicken from the oven and return to your squash as the familiar sound of his bike wafts toward you. You can’t help but smile. You knows what’s coming. 

 

You continue to cook as you hear him head through the front door, his keys jingling. His heavy footsteps move through your small but cute house and then stop once he moves into the kitchen. You glance over your shoulder at him, “Hi babe.” 

 

“Hi yourself.” He says as he moves toward you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist.

 

You close your eyes as another smile spreads across your face. He pokes his nose into your curly hair and takes a deep breath, his eyes closing as he breathes you in. The two of you sway back and forth slowly to your own rhythm before he leans down and pecks your cheek with his pink lips. He opens his eyes again and moves them around the kitchen, taking in your themed decorations. He chuckles and it vibrates through you. You eye him as he moves around you, nodding his head slowly as he reaches out to touch the small pumpkin sitting the corner of the island. You bite your lip and try to stifle the laugh bubbling in your chest as he moves to the windows, checking out the ghost and zombie window clings. He then moves to the kitchen table, a beautiful old table from the forties that he found and restored a few years back. He taps the small red button on the skeleton centerpiece and watches unenthusiastically as the skeleton begins to dance and sing. 

 

You snort from the pent up laughter. He turns and leans up against the table, crossing his arms over his chest with a smug look on his face, “I thought we talked about this?”

 

“Oh? We talked about what, dear?” Your voice is light and sweet, like a fifties housewife.

 

He squints his eyes and you smile wider. You know  _ exactly _ what you two talked about. You’ve had many, many, MANY conversations about it. You still really can’t believe you ended up with him after he admitted his faux pas. It really hurt your heart. Steve Rogers hates Halloween. The blasphemy of it! But even more, Steve Rogers, six foot two, two hundred and forty pound Captain America, eats, lives, and breathes Christmas. Not just Christmas, though, you could tolerate that somewhat. No, no, your husband, the greatest Super Soldier of all time, love Christmas music. Hymns, songs, carols… he loves it all. Sometimes, you feel like it’s just to spite you. He stands from his spot at the table and starts to move toward your record player.

 

You place your hand on your hip, a smile playing on your lips, “Steve.”

 

“Yes?” He answers sweetly, combing through his expansive collection.

 

“Don’t.” You warn. He looks at you over his shoulder before completely ignoring you and picking out his favorite album, “Steven Grant Rogers, I mean it!” 

 

He plucks the round disk from the cover and places it gingerly into the player, picking up the needle. You can’t help but laugh at his theatrics, “Captain!”

 

He sets the needle down despite your objections and for a few seconds, just static can be heard. But once the static clears, Judy Garland’s voice lights up the kitchen as she belts out Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas. You close your eyes in exacerbation, taking a deep breath, “Captain,” You say calmly.

 

“Yes dear?” He answers smugly.

 

“We talked about this.”

 

“Oh?” 

 

You laugh wildly as he mocks you, “It’s too early for Christmas Carols!”

 

“So, let me get this straight. You can decorate the house in this morbid stuff two months early, but I can’t listen to Christmas music?”

 

You tap your foot, pretending to think over your answer, “Yes.” 

 

It’s his turn to laugh, “That is not fair.”

 

“Life’s not fair buttercup.”

 

“I have to combat your ghoulish lust somehow! This is the only way I can do it.”

 

You fake offense, placing your hand to your chest as you lean back slightly. You look at each other as Judy croons in the background, a terrible mismatch for your skeletons, bats, zombies, and ghost decor. He quirks his eyebrow, that stupid smirk on his face as he believes he’s won something. 

 

“It’s September.” You plead, “This is making my ears bleed.”

 

“This,” he motions around, “Makes my eyes bleed.” 

 

You chuckle again, clicking your teeth as you return to stirring your pesto sauce, “I’m not taking it down.”

 

“Good.” He taunts, “I have plenty more Christmas records.” 

 

“You know,” You start, motioning for him to start grabbing the plates and silverware, “You could at least have better taste and play Last Christmas by Wham.” 

 

He stops reaching for the plates and looks back at you over his shoulder, his face scrunched, “Who?”

 

“Oh my god,” You giggle.

 

He moves around in the kitchen, grabbing plates, and cups, and silverware, humming rather loudly with Judy Garland. You shake your head and keep your eyes on him as he has the nerve to even dance a little. He grabs your wrist and spins you into his chest, smiling down on you as you laugh wildly again. You begin a sloppy foxtrot with him, pretty much just hanging onto him for dear life as he whisks you around. You throw your arms around his neck and hug him tightly, resting your chin on his shoulder as he slows down. 

 

“I’ve missed you baby.” He whispers.

 

“I’ve missed you Captain.”

 

Steve holds you to him as though if he lets you go, he’ll never see you again. He spins you away from him slowly but keeps a hold of your much smaller hand. He pulls you back into him and you can’t help the smile that spreads across your lips. You stare up into those big eyes of his as the Christmas Song begins playing from the record player. You can’t remember how many September nights the two of you have spent slow dancing to Christmas music in the past five years, but you’ll never tell him that these are some of your favorite nights of the year. Despite the music choice.

 

You and Steve don’t even eat. The two of you end up in your bedroom, as usual, making love. You’re wrapped up in your sheets and comforter as your unclothed husband moves back out into kitchen after growing an appetite. Steve picks up the needle from the now skipping record, his hands full of food. He flicks his eyes toward his music collection just as he’s about to move back toward the bedroom, but stops as something catches his eye.

 

“You will never guess what I found.” 

 

You toss your eyes toward him, a lazy smile on your face as he moves back into sight, “What’s that?”

 

He sets down the slices of cheesecake and wine before moving over toward the radio in your room. He slides a CD into it and turns back toward you, cocking his eyebrow as Last Christmas by Wham starts to fill your bedroom. You fall into a fit of laughter again, covering your face with your hands. God, you love this man. 

 


End file.
